Best Anaesthetic Poems
Of love there is no antidote nor cure,
A brazen heart knows nothing of the hand,
That guides this Cupid arrow fair and pure,
And pierces through with art that soul can stand.
Of choice the soul knows nothing to begin,
As seeds that scatter aimlessly on clay,
Some grow and flourish unbeknown to him,
That stalks the Earth oblivious and grey.
Confounded he, who is awakened so,
From anaesthetic binding dark as night,
When true love strikes and soul begins to glow,
He see’s a Universe that’s blazing bright.
And brazen heart is smelted down to flesh,
And nourished through with all of loves relish.
Flickering hazel eyes flecked with cataract silver, glittering this way and that.
Eyebrows high and a piercing pupil saying
'Move this ing thing, lest I punch my left hooded, binded fist a jab hand on these tubes'.
'Zip wire that gagg, tie and choke my goddamn breath'
'I will pull them as a hook on a stuck fishing line and retrieve the barb, bloodspattered, and bubbling.
Frowned lines across forehead asking 'Do it'. 'Do it'. 'Do what I ask '.
So we do. It seems a simple task to give a unanimous verdict.
The intrusive, plastic, invasive chords are cut, pulled like black vine from flower beds.
Then you snore an old bear.
The glove is off. You relax into your last sleep.
The effort to squeeze those exhausted ribs, carried by anaesthetic buzz is cotton buds and breezy, easy.
Between the bright blue curtains someone's shouting 'Kersh come on we've got one waiting for you'.
Others talk of apologises, welcomes, pats on the back and loving arms.
A pallor comes and little marks underneath the eyes. You lay asleep. No breath. No pain.
In this dark December night your passing saw rock and roll change into a summer of love, then fall into an Autumn of jazz and horse racing.
We three saying farewell, wondering if you want us there or not?
But we know beneath our bludgering feelings of denial.
The familiar ties that span a lifetime make the fit right.
And in our jangling, bangling, tightweb, we hold you and wish you a safe journey Kersh
Aether is the fabric of our universe -
Tiny granules that transfer energy
In the form of waves ~~~
This goes on unseen constantly!
It propagates light and other waves,
Longitudinal and transverse
( Or electromagnetic )
Right across the universe!
Aether stretches far beyond
The laws of physiology!
Did you know that Aether
Is also a god in Greek Mythology?
In chemistry, it is flammable.
It is used as an anaesthetic.
It's a solvent used in industrial processes -
Google it ~ this knowledge is authentic!
But at the same time,
It's a word that is seldom heard,
Most people have better luck,
Deciphering the songs of a bird!
But today, 'Aether' was on my list,
To master and triumph,
As if it was a fifth wish!
Oh, the gravity of this situation,
Like cosmic forces similar to Shakti,
I feel that I have learned so much,
Should I be yelling out 'Yahtzee'?!?
The king of the classical elements;
Earth, Air, Water and Fire...
Aether bends and amends our universe,
To be the most desired!
Sunday, October 3, 2021
Beneath the arc of crumbling dusk,
Lisps down the petals of the rose
To crimson-kiss the fountain bowls
Where the champagne faucet flows.
The guests in boarding houses
Felt the smoulder of their bones
Balding walls restricting transit
Behind the mortar work and stones.
And we cried and smiled and cheered
When the anaesthetic rushed,
As the opiate of media
Camouflaged the broke and crushed.
Oh, tomorrow they are married,
And the next day we will wake,
To our debts and thoughts of dying
In a world we didn’t make.
Yet today in celebration
We salute the future King,
Feed us pomp and circumstance,
We’ll bow and kiss your ring.
With glorious primordial certainty
the sun will rise, the sun will set;
likewise you languish knowing what you're about,
you know what is and isn’t so;
yet, ultimately, you don’t.
Chained to the chromium railings of
a sterile value system,
some terminal, addled suffragette,
hollow to the very core, quintessentially
punch-drunk by the ghost fists
of what you do not know;
sometimes you can dream, more often you won’t.
This is all you wanted, surely,
way back when Homer was a pup;
this thing you worked for, this cold material cocoon,
this anaesthetic cult to which you belong;
then again, maybe not.
All your wild beasts are chained and in cages
you painstakingly banged them up;
now you act surprised in a wrung-out
monochrome way
at the quiet death of your protest song
with the former self you have forgot.
Just as a virus will seek out a host,
just as water will find it’s own level;
you’re a schizoid, new age, careworn dolt
with no limits to how far your mind will sink
in unfathomable depths of self delusion.
Wrenched this way and that, going with the flow,
serving both God and the Devil;
but where now is the rebel heart,
the hedonistic happy fool,
the keeper of the demon drink?
no more than a crumbling memory,
the feeblest illusion.
Once burning with such crucial fire,
a quiver full of arrows shot with telescopic vision;
now all that burns no more, doubted by the rain
spat from black clouds of self denial;
no remnant traces of an ex-antihero.
Servile to the whims of children,
and an emasculating harpy
who regards you with derision;
you are alone your own executioner
self judge and juror at the kangaroo trial
self sentenced to figure less than zero.
The way the nurse looked at me, told me
That something wasn’t quite right
It’s why I‘d gone to the surgery that day
I’d been feeling nauseous all night,
The nurse called the doctor, who came to say
“We’re going to start you off, right away.”
They told me I had pre-eclampsia
A condition both dangerous and rare
But not to worry, that my baby and I,
Would receive the best of care
They put me to bed, and told me to rest
Then every five minutes, took a blood pressure test
The doc gave me a valium injection
To bring my blood pressure down,
Ten minutes later he came back again
The smile on his face, replaced by a frown
“I’m sorry Janette - your blood pressure’s too high
If we don’t operate right this minute – you’ll die!”
They gave me the anaesthetic,
As they wheeled me down corridors grey
And as we approached the theatre doors,
I could feel myself drifting away
The last thing I remember, before slumber serene
Was the theatre staff, standing there, all dressed in green
When I eventually came round, when I finally awoke
Hooked to monitors, drugged, feeling sore
I received such a shock, I shot up in bed
Pulling all the drips down to the floor,
The doctors and nurses then came rushing in
To find out, what caused the alarm bells to ring
They told me I’d been in a coma
For two weeks, I’d been out of this world
That the op had gone well, and I now
Was the mum, of a beautiful, baby girl
She was doing quite well, though still a bit weak,
I was totally too dumbfounded to speak!
Two weeks of my life are now missing,
Absent time, I shall never recall
But if not for those doctors and nurses
I would never have been here at all,
For my life, and that of my daughter they saved
And for that I’ll be grateful, to the end of my days.
© Janette Fisher – April 1983
This poem was written after the birth of my first daughter who is now 27
My dearest, sweet Daddy
I wish Australia wasn't so far away!
I can't just "pop over" to say hello
England is on the other side of the world
For one thing there's the cost
If the subject of money wasn't an issue
I'd be winging my way to you now!
When you told me you had Alzheimer's
I died a little that day
And what scares me so much, Daddy
Is when you won't know who I am
There are so many precious memories
That I hold in my treasure chest
Like the time you placed me
And my brother Scott
In a wired waste bin in Camperdown Park!
The reason for this strange action?
To make an unusual photograph
It certainly was funny
We peered at you through diamond shaped slats
Set against a brilliant smooth blanket of snow
I remember clinging on to your strong back
As I faced my fear of the swimming pool
You were my tower of strength, my refuge
As the water began to encompass me
And when the terror of the gasmask
Consumed me at the Dentist's Office
You went in first, to assuage my panic
There was no need for your check up
Then years later, when my appendix was removed
And the phobia gripped my very soul
You came to the anaesthetic room
Calming and soothing me as I drifted off
The clever things you made with your hands
The doll's house, ambulance and gurney
And the bust of Winston Churchill and car
Both fashioned completely out of sand!
Not forgetting the giant Queen of Hearts A-Board
And the washing machine hat
With "Brain washing" written on the top!
I cherished your words of wisdom
And you wiped away my tears
When I grieved for my husband
Also in the throws of Alzheimer's
Can you wipe away my tears now, Daddy
As I pen these words to you?
I need another of your cozy cuddles
And some more words of wisdom
I love you ever so much
And I need to save up all my pennies
To wing my way back to you
Before you forget who I am...
Your loving daughter, Diane
After July abdicates, august August arrives,
and the year advances, as annually agreed.
After assessing alternative alternatives and accords,
as anticipated, no other affirmative alternative is advanced.
Actually August is always an annual actuality, affably accepted
as amicable and always awaited ardently, as July avidly absconds!
Anxiously active actions advise August adherents, to atrabilious accordingly,
as days are abridged and abbreviated, around-the-clock! Slowly
as all administrations adjourn, advocates abort all agonistic argument,
as analysis of aforethought Acts are advanced, and addendums
are amicably agreed. After appropriate and amusing accolades are accepted,
all approve of appeasement, as another additional accidental adventitious
activity appears! August is always appreciated and advances, as aide-de-camps
award and authorise aristocrats and actuaries, to amalgamate advertising agencies,
although angry animosity always aggravates, angers, and aggrieves
anti-agreement antagonists! Assuaging angry aged academics and agents,
aghast at angry animosity, always attracts acrimonious atrabilious attention.
As an acknowledged antidote, an amusing anecdote is always acceptable,
as an agreeable anaesthetic appetizer, and allaying fears. An atmosphere
of aggravated argument, also assures all august, August activities are
axed and abolished abruptly, as September appropriately and advisedly appears!
Adieu, Adios, Arrivederci, Au revoir August and Amen!
Rhymer. September 1st, 2016..
F aceless is the connivance of our deadly foe
A llegiance to our Saviour is the way to go
I mmutable services of great magnitude
T rust in holy teachings shall not be misconstrued
H abitual desire brings us to our knees
I mmeasureable lifetime soul courses for trainees
S purious thoughts and emotions deter progress
A tonement for misdemeanours, less we regress
P atrick, an alcoholic, forgot how to pray
O bedience to his true faith dissolved away
W alking through Central Park to his own detriment
E mbodiment entity of evil descent
R ose up before Patrick with purposeful intent
F ascinated he approached his deadly demise
U plifting his face to see his assailant's eyes
L andscape of verdant grasses, bright bluest of skies
T emperate climate, with many birds to enthrall
H ow, why, where could he be? Perhaps, dreaming it all
I mage of Jesus formed, as he heard his name call
N umbed by anaesthetic, he vowed to live again
G lorifying his Saviour for a life regained
Victorian Era
~Victorian Era~
I think that the Victorian age would have suited me
The ingenuity fashion the great exhibition
Would all have been fascinating for me to see.
Not a child up chimneys, that’s not my mission
Not a Debtors Prison or Blacking factory.
None of these I’d do, that’s not my ambition.
I want to invent and better things for all,
The Victorian era was when inventors had a ball.
From Steam ships to sewers, lighting, and heating.
Bazalgette cleaned the streets Pettit and Smith made us warm
Lister invented antiseptic which we now use after eating.
Anaesthetic was invented, which is now the norm.
Science and technology all the greats were meeting
But prostitution and destitution were in need of reform.
A great Victorian lady I would have liked to be
But I am quite happy, with the twenty-first century me.
For: A Moment In Another Time by: Mandy Tams~GG~
OLD MAN FALLING ASLEEP READING
Soundless words and mute silence,
Slowly losing my place, no rush,
Where time stops and speech ends -
Quiet noiseless hush.
Long pale sunbeam has crept
Into roomy gloom, edging sideways -
A yellow cat on stealthy steps,
Dust motes held in its gaze.
Anaesthetic of table-polish and paper gloss,
Buzz, flicker, and plink-plonk from faulty tube light,
Books by the dusty dozen, measure the loss -
Loosen my grip, once tight.
Doze, lose consciousness,
And so to sleep, perchance to wake
In a place where speech ends: time stops.
.................................................................
I ‘m missing him like we miss that lost tooth till the gum heals.
I ‘ve been in the dentist’s chair
Had the anaesthetic but still felt the tug and force.
And the dentist yelled,look at this,
I got it all out in one
You see,the root was very twisted and tangled
I told him,take it away.
I’m missing my other because his absence makes a hole
like that bloody hollow in your jaw but in the soul.
Came home alone from the clinic
Felt that soul hole.The first time
when he was n’ t here.
God does n’ t do anaesthesia, just burns the bush
I’m missing him because he needed me so much
Now nobody needs me nor notices if I am here except Alfred
Or if I fall over in the garden,will I die and rot down to the earth before
my neighbour recalls he’s not seen me for three weeks.Or maybe five.
I miss J the way you’d miss your flesh
if someone shot you with a rifle and made a tunnel through your body;
took out a lump which would hurtle away and fall to earth.
I’m missing his honey smell.
the knowledge,the feeling he had of me.
The hole in my space is almost tangible
in this room.
I wake up and wonder what he’d like to eat today.
But the dead don’t eat at our tables do they?
I remember I am alone at the table and I can eat whatever I like.
Oh,love,why did you go down so fast?
When you were the one,solid I leaned on.
You were my man, you were the one,
OBE
I never really believed in the white light
At the end of a tunnel-try as I might
I was having a laugh with the anaesthetist
When the surgeon did ask him for a quick assist
“Why is she not asleep yet? I heard him ask
She is used to the pre-meds, don’t worry this is my task.
After many bouts of surgery over the years
I was hard to knock out but I still had my fears.
I loved the sleep anaesthetic does give
The dreams are so wonderful and so real and vivid.
This one was different I remember it well
I was sat very high up looking down I could tell
There was a lot of commotion below me that I could see
There were bells ringing and flashing lights and then I saw me
Wow this is weird how am I lying there but here I was looking around
I could not believe it a white light did surround
I was laughing and thinking this can’t be real
Nobody sees a white light never mind tries to feel
It surrounded me and I felt it, I now wasn’t to sure
I had never seen anything like it before
On top of the electric light that was below
I saw the dust sitting on it even with the bright glow
Then there was calm and things did quite down
There was a rushing in my ears but no other sound.
A voice came to me and said “Come on now wake up”
A tap on my cheek and I felt them pull the pipe up
I coughed and she smiled,” it’s all over now
We are glad to see you, you don’t know how.”
When I awoke they were standing round my bed
One nurse I knew said “We thought you were dead”
Charming said I, why what went wrong?
“Your heart did stop beating, but now it is strong.”
I wondered what had happened I was watching you all
No you cannot have been, don’t say that, that tale is to tall
I told them of the alarms the beeping and coloured lights
I was watching from above, seeing what I might
They smiled at me with an indulgent look
But I know what I saw so they can put that in their book.
My little fella
I held you softly against me
For only a few minutes
Staring into the horrified eyes of a nurse
Who saw death
Where I saw love in an ocean of bitter sadness
My little fella
I gave birth to you
Alone and terrified
Under the blinding darkness of a silver neon sign
Following a failed anaesthetic
Under the hurried footsteps of a panicked nurse
My little fella
I was able to give you a name
I was able to give you an official place
In this silent, frightened world
Where every time there's a blunder
Preventing a well-deserved place
My little fella
Free yourself from me
Fly away
To other joys
With a light heart
For a beautiful illuminated life
Fly away, my little fella
I'll always be there for you
And for all those who left too soon
Without hope of a happy tomorrow
Leaving waves of unfulfilled love
That return with each generation in the hope of happy days.
we walk away from setting light
and stride into the somber night
ending in an endless dusk
the vibrant mornings dying husk
and as we sleep, and as we die
our fading soul can never cry
and as we die, and as we weep
our fading bodies fall asleep
and as we weep, and as we wake
our anaesthetic minds awake
and as we wake, and as we fade
we dream of heaven, fiction made
and as we fade, so do we die
and dream of darkness as we lie